


Longing for Some Solitary Company

by amethystkrystal



Series: Bless the Rains [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black Panther (2018) Post-Credits Scene, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sharing a Bed, Shuri is a bro, Wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 21:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15156086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystkrystal/pseuds/amethystkrystal
Summary: One year and two months after Bucky went into cyrofreeze Steve's phone buzzed with a message from Shuri. There was no text, just two tiny cartoonish pictures of an ice cream cone and water droplets. Emojis, he remembered they were called. He squinted at the screen, trying to discern what the hell she could possibly be trying to tell him."Sam, you have any idea what this means?""Man, kids these days and their weird lingo. Uh, I dunno...ice cream squirting? Ice cream dripping? Ice cream melting?"Melting. Steve's breath caught in this throat.He was on his way to Wakanda within the hour.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve fought back tears as watched the tendrils of freezing vapor rise up the glass chamber and cloud over Bucky's face. He stood there for a long while. So long that eventually the medics and technicians cleared out and he was alone. No _. _ Not alone. Even unconscious, deep in cryosleep, Bucky was  _ there. _ Steve couldn't let himself forget that. 

"Sad White Boy, are you still here?!"

He turned to see T'Challa's sister Shuri giving him a kind smile as she entered. He knew Shuri meant it endearingly, and well, the chiding wasn't unwarranted. He'd probably been alone there for hours, listening to the vital monitor beeping in time to slowed beat of Bucky's heart, reminding himself with each sound,  _ this is real. _ The universe really did give Bucky Barnes back to him.

Shuri moved past him and tapped a series of commands into the holographic monitors. An arrangement of multi-colored projections appeared in front of her, and as she shifted them about with confident purpose, it pained Steve to realize who she reminded him of. 

"You know, you could give Tony Stark a run for his money," he said, gesturing around at the array of impressive technology surrounding them. 

"Tony Stark," she scoffed, actually looking affronted. "Don't insult me."

Steve may have been born in a time when black and white television was considered the pinnacle of technological achievement, but even he could tell this research facility was advanced. Weapons, armor, medicine... all headed by a sixteen year old girl that liked to call him "Sad White Boy".

"Thank you," he told her. "For everything. I know your family is going through a lot, and I'm grateful for you and your brother's help."

"My baba was killed because someone wanted to use your friend as a weapon," she said. "I'll do everything I can to make sure that never happens again. And besides," She flicked her wrist, sending a massive three-dimensional projection of a human brain to the middle of the room. "I like the chance to show off my genius." 

Steve swallowed. "Is that-"

"His brain, yes. I installed a scanner system in the cryochamber before we put him in. These images synthesize microscopic and magnetic resonance images. I can see right down to the individual synapses, every single connection."

Steve looked up at the hologram, noticing several spots that looked deformed, mottled with swelling and half-healed scarring. He suddenly itched for a punching bag. 

 

*

 

Natasha came for him a week later. He'd just finished a three-on-one sparring match with T'Challa's best Dora Milaje when he noticed a flash of red hair moving toward him from the observation stands. 

She hugged him and looked him up and down. Her eyes lingered on his face, where a hint of stubble was beginning to grow. 

"Really saying 'fuck you' to the whole Captain America thing, huh?"

"Good to see you too, Nat."

"I'm sure it's been fun staring at your frozen best friend for hours at a time and taking out your frustrations on your host's bodyguards, but how would you feel about a little change of scenery?"

 

*

 

A change in scenery turned out to mean being dispatched by Nick Fury to Syria and rendezvousing with Sam to intercept a weapons trade deal between ISIS and HYDRA. It hurt to leave Bucky in Wakanda. He'd already lost him twice, and every instinct in him rebelled against being separated again. But then his fist made contact with the first HYDRA agent that came barreling towards him, and it made him feel more alive than he had in days. Natasha did the right thing in retrieving him; Steve never was capable of going too long without a fight. 

*

 

For its entire history, Wakanda had been cut off from the rest of the world, and two weeks after Steve Rogers made it his asylum, those hundreds of years of isolationism came to an end. He watched the news broadcast from a hotel room in Egypt, feeling like lead had dropped in his stomach. T'Challa called him a few hours later.

"The whole world has its eyes on us now. It may be best for you to continue your missions with the Black Widow until we can be sure your presence here can remain a secret." The Wakandan king paused. "I am sorry, Captain Rogers. But I had to do what was right."

"I understand," Steve said. And he meant it, knowing what it felt like to have the means to right the wrongs in the world and the sense of solemn responsibility that came with it. "They're saying there was a conflict for the throne. Is everyone alright?"

"Killmonger left a great deal of pain and destruction in his wake, but we are healing."

"And Bucky?"

"He is safe with us. I promise you that. I dare anyone to try and get between my sister and her favorite project."

 

*

 

Steve threw himself into the missions. Destroy this HYDRA base. Investigate that lead. Surveil him. Interrogate her. He was good at this work. He was god damned  _ engineered  _ for it. And it felt good to put his energy into something that wasn't worrying about his best friend lying in a cryochamber or feeling guilty about nearly putting his shield through Tony Stark's skull. 

Ten months after leaving Wakanda, he sat in a Paris hotel room staring at footage streamed to his laptop from a camera he'd planted the day before. The target was a former S.H.I.E.L.D agent who's true alliance was unclear; Fury was still trying to find out who, if any, of his old allies could be trusted. Steve hated surveillance missions. Constantly itching for action and practically vibrating with restless energy at all times, he was unsuited for long stretches of waiting. 

A knock at the door broke the tedium, and out of pure reflex, his hand twitched forward to reach for a shield that wasn't there. He ignored the sinking feeling that welled in his stomach and crept toward the door. Looking through the peephole, he almost didn't recognize Natasha standing on the other side. She'd dyed her hair a dirty blond color. 

"Nice hair," he said, letting her in.

"Yeah, well, we can't all disguise ourselves as mountain men." She brushed past him, giving his face an affectionate tap. He'd let the stubble he'd grown in Wakanda turn into a full-on beard. Like Natasha said, it was good for disguise. And, though he'd never admit it out loud, it really was a satisfying "fuck you" to the Star Spangled Man with a Plan. 

"I have a present for you," she said.

Steve raised an eyebrow as she unzipped her backpack and pulled out three notebooks, setting them on room's single table. His chest went tight when he realized one was red with a black star on the cover.

"Where did you -"

"CIA headquarters. Zemo left the Winter Soldier book behind in Berlin." She pointed to another notebook, this one with a plain blue cover. "I translated the whole thing. This is one copy. The other I gave to a certain princess in Wakanda."

"Nat, you didn't have to-"

"You don't have to thank me. I've got my own interest in undoing KGB brainwashing." She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and held up the last notebook. Steve realized he'd seen it before.

"That's Bucky's. From the apartment in Romania."

"CIA combed through the whole place. This was the only personal item. Your picture's in there. " She looked faintly amused. "He mostly wrote in English, but there's a few bits in Russian that I translated for you in the margins."

"Nat, thank you. I can't-"

"It's gonna be alright, Rogers." She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We might actually make it out of this one alive." And with that she turned and slipped out the door. 

Steve sank down onto the bed, heart beating rapidly. Shuri now had everything she needed to know about the Winter Soldier programming, and the prospect of Bucky's impending awakening was enough to bring tears of relief to his eyes. 

He picked up Bucky's notebook from the table and flipped to the first page. The picture paperclipped there was of him in full star-spangled regalia, cut out from a Smithsonian brochure. He imagined Bucky, confused and dazed after pulling him from the Potomac, seeking out answers from  _ his  _ exhibit. It was almost too much to handle. He started reading, for once grateful he had time for a little waiting around. 

 

*

 

**Кто я такой?**

**Где я?**

**Как я сюда попал?**

**Кто я такой?**

**Кто я такой?**

 

{Who am I?

Where am I?

How did I get here?

Who am I?

Who am I?}

*

 

**Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes**

**Bucky**

**He** **I was from Brooklyn and joined the army**

**Captain America**

**Steve**

**Steve Steve Steve**

**He was my mission**

**I pulled him from the river**

**He used to be small and sick**

**The museum said that but I remember**

**Asthma, bad heart**

**The army changed him and he rescued me**

**Zola**

**Experiments**

**I fell from a train**

 

*

 

One year and two months after Bucky went into cyrofreeze Steve's phone buzzed with a message from Shuri. There was no text, just two tiny cartoonish pictures of an ice cream cone and water droplets. Emojis, he remembered they were called. He squinted at the screen, trying to discern what the hell she could possibly be trying to tell him.

"Sam, you have any idea what this means?"

"Man, kids these days and their weird lingo. Uh, I dunno...ice cream squirting? Ice cream dripping? Ice cream melting?"

_ Melting.  _ Steve's breath caught in this throat.

He was on his way to Wakanda within the hour.


	2. Chapter 2

Whenever the Asset was brought out of cryostasis, he woke up screaming, shivering from cold and terror. They would drag him, naked and dripping wet, to a metal chair and set the awful device on his head that made his skull feel like it was splitting into a thousand pieces. It would be agony and confusion and terror and then...nothing. Numb and empty. Ready to comply.

When Bucky Barnes was brought out of cryostasis, he woke up warm. He felt humid air and soft fabric on his skin. Sunlight filtered through a small window above him, illuminating a cozy hut that housed simple wooden furniture and colorful intricate tapestries. A dizzying wave of panic seized him, as it did every time he woke up, whether from cryostasis or not, and before he could spiral further, he recited to himself.

_ I'm James Buchanan Barnes. I know who I am. I'm in control. I'm in Wakanda. I know how I got here. _

Wakanda. He woke up in Wakanda. That meant-

"Good morning, Sergeant Barnes." A girl with long braided hair sat cross-legged at edge of the sleep pallet, watching him with a curious but unafraid look. T'Challa's sister, Shuri. She didn't look much different from when he'd last seen her...

"Shuri? How long has it been?" His voice sounded raw. 

She frowned at him. "The Princess Shuri was my great-great-great-great grandmother," she said solemnly. "It's been one-hundred and seventy years."

Bucky experienced a moment of sheer panic before the princess started shrieking with laughter. 

"Oh my goodness, your face! You are even more gullible than my brother!" She shook her head, actually wiping a tear from her eye. "Aye, one-hundred and seventy years, really? Did you have no faith in me?"

Bucky gave her a weak smile despite himself. When he first landed in Wakanda, he'd been rushed to the medical center and the moment they arrived, Shuri had started barking orders at T'Challa and Steve. Bucky knew right then he was gonna get along real well with the girl who had Captain America fetching her snacks. 

"Call me Bucky," he said.  He was no sergeant anymore. Slowly, he pulled himself up to a sitting position, the motion awkward with only one arm. The metal stump was covered by blue cloth; someone had dressed him in a long, comfortable tunic. He closed his eyes and inhaled, steadying himself. "How long was I under, really? Did you-- can you fix me?"

Shuri's face broke out into a wide grin. "It's been a little over a year and two months. And yes. That messed up head of yours was a challenge, but I can deprogram the trigger words."

Bucky let out a choked breath, relieved. He'd stepped into that cryochamber with no real expectation of coming out of it; he was more concerned with protecting others from himself rather than holding on to any hope for fixing what HYDRA did to him. It was a sentiment he kept to himself, knowing Steve especially would have objections. It seemed impossible to fathom, the idea that he could have a life without being afraid of having his whole self stolen from him in an instant. But who even was that self? Sergeant Barnes fell from a train and was never coming back, and yet he wasn't the Winter Soldier anymore...so who did that make him? He'd avoided that question during the two years he was on the run. But then, Steve found him, and now being nobody wasn't an option anymore.

"What about Steve?" he found himself asking. "Is he still here?"

Shuri rolled her eyes. "He moped around my lab for a whole week and then his redhead friend came and got him, thank Bast." Her expression softened. "He came back as soon as I told him we were bringing you out. My brother is bringing him from the capital now."

Bucky nodded, his whole body filling with nervous anticipation. When they last saw each other, Steve had lost his friends and made himself an international criminal. The past year must have been hell and Bucky...he'd been the cause of it.

And the worst part was, Bucky knew Steve would never blame him for any of it. Because when Steve had a cause, when he had something or someone to fight for, he was unrelenting, stubborn and self-righteous without a shred of self-preservation. He would set himself on fire to be a beacon for others. And then when it was over, when the flames went out and Steve was left broken and charred, how could Bucky feel anything but overwhelming guilt and helplessness? The whole situation made him feel like a kid in Brooklyn again, stumbling too-late into an alley and finding Steve splayed on the ground with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles. 

"Where am I exactly?" Bucky looked around the hut. The simplistic dwelling was a drastic change from the hi-tech medical facility he'd arrived at.

"This is the village of N'Jadaka," Shuri said. "The temple of the goddess Sekhmet is in the forest nearby. People from all over Wakanda come here for healing."

Bucky took a deep breath, leaning back. Sunlight fell on his face and the gentle warmth felt good on his skin. Birds chirped out a staccato melody somewhere in the distance. The scent of spices and livestock wafted in and he could hear the sounds people somewhere nearby - shouting, laugher, the high-pitched shrieks of children. They spoke in a language he didn't understand (not really, anyway, though the Winter Soldier did know some similar African dialects), but the boisterous, amicable voices clamoring over one another made him think of Brooklyn in the summer, when the sunny days drew the whole neighborhood outside. 

"Is this safe?" Bucky asked.

"HYDRA will not find you here."

"No, I mean-" Bucky clenched his jaw. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"As soon as you're feeling up to it, we're going to start deprogramming the trigger words," Shuri said. The note of teasing in her voice was gone now.  "And in the meantime, we don't have any reason to believe you'll be a danger to yourself or anyone else. Until what happened in Vienna, you went over two years without an incident."

Bucky just nodded, though he didn't feel very reassured. It was true he'd been in control after he'd pulled Steve from that river in D.C., but with just a few words Zemo had turned him back into a machine, a  _ weapon _ . He trusted Shuri and he knew T'Challa would never put his own people at risk, but still, if Hyrdra found him here, if he stumbled upon a trigger by accident, if he hurt someone, if he hurt a  _ child _ \-- just thinking about it made his stomach turn. 

Shuri suddenly stood up and offered her hand to him. "Come. There is something I'd like to show you."

Bucky took her hand and slowly eased himself up to a standing position, still feeling a little unsteady from just waking up. He followed her outside, stepping barefoot on the soft earth. The hut was situated in a small grove on the banks of a lake. Bucky paused, taking in the sight of clear water sparkling in the sunlight, the gentle sound as the current moved. Shuri led him along a twisting dirt path away from the lake, and after a few minutes, they came to bustling marketplace, ringed by a collection of huts, similar to the one he'd just emerged from. Villagers milled about him, moving around the displays of food, fabrics and tools. Bucky didn't know where to look; everything, from the fruits he'd never seen before to the vibrant Wankandan clothes, demanded his attention. A group of old women were crouched around a pot of stew over a cookfire, bickering back and forth as they added ingredients. Children darted in and out of the huts, shrieking with glee and chasing in each other. A few people glanced at him curiously, but generally they seemed to pay him little mind. 

"They know you are a guest of my brother's, coming here to heal from a great deal of burden and pain," Shuri said, answering his unspoken question. They had reached the edge of the village, the dirt path opening up to a wide open field. 

In the distance, Bucky could see several dark shapes. As they moved closer he was startled to realize they were  _ rhinoceroses _ . They were massive, thick with muscle under leathery ebony skin. They ambled along with majestic grace, exuding strength in every step. He stared at them in awed reverence and a memory suddenly struck him. 

( _ "C'mon Buck, there's that new zoo over on Flatbush. I wanna sketch the animals; I'm sick of drawing pigeons."  _

_ "Your allergies are gonna have a field day." _

" _ Aw, I'll be fine. _ "

_ "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" _ )

That's how most of his memories had come back to him, triggered without warning by the most random of things. The experience always left him dizzy, but he was grateful -- every time it happened was a reminder that HYDRA had never truly erased Bucky Barnes. 

"These rhinos could trample a man to death in an instant. They could pierce him right through the middle with their horn." As she said this, Shuri started walking toward one of them, hand outstretched. Bucky watched in utter astonishment as the rhino came right up to her and nuzzled her hand. She went on, "They are dangerous. Wild. And yet we build our villages among them. We take them to battle with us. We have lived with these beasts for hundreds of years."

"Are you saying I'm a wild animal?"

"I'm saying there is wildness inside you, but that does not mean you need to be caged."

Bucky frowned. He wished he could believe that. 

Before he could dwell on Shuri's words too long, a thundering whir sounded distantly. Bucky looked up to see a sleek silver land speeder approaching them, sending the rhinos stampeding away. Shuri grabbed his arm, tugging him forward.

"Ah, that's my brother with your boyfriend! Come on!" 

Suddenly feeling very lightheaded, he followed Shuri to where the speeder had come to a stop. The door slid open with a mechanical hiss and T'Challa emerged, smiling kindly at him.  And then Steve stepped out and -

Oh. Bucky's whole body suddenly felt like a live wire. 

Something in him shattered every time he looked at Steve. Before, when he was in hiding, Bucky had resigned himself numbness -- not exactly reverting to Winter Soldier but rather, he closed himself off from the barrage of feelings that threatened to overwhelm him as memories came back to him. But then Steve had shown up in his apartment, and every time he looked at him after that, nothing could stop the flood of emotions that overtook him, that broke every wall inside his mind. Fondness for the dumbass who followed his moral compass into fights he had no business picking. Protectiveness so fierce it scared him. Bitterness that he had to share the one good thing in his life with the rest of the world. Desires he was so careful to keep hidden, terrified of what it would mean if Steve ever knew he-

Without even realizing he was doing it, Bucky walked toward Steve. His legs felt shaky and he suspected it had nothing to do with just coming out of cryosleep. 

"Bucky." 

Steve said his name like a prayer and looked at him with tenderness that broke Bucky's heart. Steve put his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug and letting out a relieved breath against Bucky's neck. Bucky brought his right arm across Steve's back, clinging to him just enough to pull them a little closer together. Holding each other like that, Bucky felt  _ right _ in a way he hadn't in a very long time. 

They broke apart after a moment and Bucky jerked his head at Steve. 

"Didn't teach you how to shave?"

Steve just laughed, giving his shoulder an affectionate clap. He turned to Shuri, who was watching them with an amused glint in her eye. "You really think you can fix him?"

"It won't be easy, but yes." Shuri turned and started walking back toward the village, motioning for them to follow. "Come, I'll show you where Bucky is staying and explain my genius plan."

 

*

 

After T'Challa and Shuri's departure, Steve and Bucky spent the rest of the day at the village market. The hut was equipped with a collection of pots and pans as well as a small area for a cookfire, so they spent a good deal of time at food stands, choosing among the unbelievable assortment of breads, spices, meats, cheeses, grains, and produce. Bucky even indulged in buying himself a small treat, a warm pastry filled with sugared berries he'd never seen before.

A strange look crossed Steve's face as Bucky bit into the pastry. He was smiling but also looked nearly on the verge of tears.

"What?"

"Nothing,  just...you always did have a sweet tooth."

Bucky was starting to get familiar with that look Steve gave him, somehow looking overjoyed, hopeful, and melancholy all at once. He made that face whenever Bucky did something that showed he was the same person Steve knew all those years ago, that he was  _ his  _ Bucky. Those moments left Bucky feeling bittersweet; he was glad for the little reassurances that HYDRA hadn't destroyed him completely, but it also scared him, the way Steve looked at him like that. Bucky felt like the man that fell from the train in 1945 had been shattered into a million pieces, and even though the pieces had come back together, it would never be quite right. Some pieces were missing. Some parts weren't meant to be there. And he was afraid that one day Steve would realize that his best friend he knew was gone and he'd want nothing more to do with the amalgamation of corrupted shards that that stood beside him now.

Bucky tried not to dwell on those thoughts as he explored the market. A display of intricately patterned kerchiefs caught his eye. He glanced down at the piece of fabric covering the stump of his left arm. Seeing  _ nothing  _ on his left side was still disturbing; it made him feel dizzy, like he was about to be sick. Suppressing his rising nausea, Bucky added a handful of kerchiefs to the bundle of clothes he'd picked out.

Looking up he noticed Steve had wandered off, transfixed by the merchandise at a stand just a few feet away. Bucky's breath caught in this throat as he watched Steve carefully examine the jars of pigment and handmade brushes that were for sale. A moment later, he rejoined Bucky with a basket of paint supplies tucked under his arm.

Maybe some things really do never change.

 

*

 

Even after the sun had set, the air stayed warm. Bucky mused at the poetry of it: the literal and figurative melting of the Winter Soldier. 

It was so warm that he and Steve forewent their shirts when they went to bed that night. Steve recovered quickly but Bucky did not miss the sad expression that crossed his face as he stared at the mess of scarring splintered out where metal met the flesh of Bucky chest. He tried to ignore the feeling of  _ longing _ that welled up in him as Steve settled in to his own side of the sleep pallet, both too close and too far at the same time.

"You remember our old apartment before the war, how the heat would break at least once every winter and we had to sleep in the same bed to stay warm?" 

They were both lying on their backs, not quite asleep. Steve had turned toward Bucky when he spoke, his face soft and fond with nostalgia. 

Bucky did remember. He remembered Steve's awful wheezing that sounded like a death rattle whenever the temperature dropped below freezing. He remembered wordlessly slipping out of his own bed and into Steve's, wrapping every blanket they owned tight around both of them and thinking about how he'd take a freezing night laying next to Steve over a warm night alone any day. He remembered being ashamed about thinking about his best friend like that, the guilt that shadowed his every thought about Steve but still wasn't enough to drive those feelings away.

"Had no other choice. Your hacking would have woken the whole damn neighborhood." Bucky glanced over at Steve, who let out a snort of laughter. He had that stupid, hopeful expression again but this time it had an uncertain edge to it.

"Buck. How much do you remember?" Steve's voice wavered and Bucky knew he must've been holding on to that particular question for a while. Probably terrified of the answer but desperate to know anyways. 

"Enough," he answered honestly. "I know who I am, where I'm from. I remember most of the war. I know who you are to me." Bucky didn't dare elaborate on exactly what he meant by that but Steve looked pleased anyway. "It's like, I don't know what I remember until I'm actually remembering it. Like earlier today, Shuri showed me the rhinos that live outside the village and suddenly I remembered going to Prospect Park Zoo."

"And... the other stuff?"

"You mean when I was the Winter Soldier?"

Steve nodded.

Bucky sighed, staring up at the thatched ceiling. "You know when you have too much to drink and you wake up the next morning with no idea what the hell happened the night before? But then the day goes on and it slowly comes back to you and all you can think is, ' _ Did I really fucking do that? _ '? It's kind of like that except instead of one night, it's seventy years and instead of dancing on the bar at McMurphy's, it's murdering Howard Stark and his wife in cold blood."

"Bucky..." Steve shifted closer and laid a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Everything that happened, all those years, it's not on you."

Bucky let out a sharp breath. "I know that. I know. But I just- I still  _ remember  _ it all. I remember the feeling of blood on my hands after slitting someone's throat. Looking through a sniper scope and taking the shots. The screaming..." He was trembling now, images and sensations flashing through his mind in a terrible assault. "It's awful, Steve. And I don't think there's anything you or anyone can say that will make me stop feeling bad about it."

Steve tightened his grip on Bucky's shoulder. He was leaning over him now, his eyes burning with a protective fury that was so charaterisically  _ Steve _ .

"It's okay. It's over now. And it won't ever happen again. I promise you. Shuri's going to deprogram the trigger words and I'll die before I let HYDRA or anyone else take you again. You're safe, Buck."

"Okay," Bucky said, barely above a whisper. He didn't trust himself to say anymore, afraid he'd break right then and there under Steve resolute gaze. 

They laid there in silence for several moments, Steve absently running his fingers gently along Bucky's arm. Bucky closed his eyes, willing himself to relax under Steve's comforting touch. It was no easy task; having Steve so close to him,  _ touching  _ him, lit up every nerve in his body. Eventually though, his own exhaustion overtook him and he drifted off to sleep thinking about Steve's promise to keep him safe. It was enough to stave away his nightmares for one night.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes the title of this fic and this whole little series is lyrics from "Africa" by Toto don't @me


End file.
